


it's cool, we can still be friends

by crunchrapsupreme



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Heartbreak, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9698048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crunchrapsupreme/pseuds/crunchrapsupreme
Summary: "It’s hard," Kuroo says. "Dating someone is hard.”“It shouldn’t be,” Kenma rolls his eyes. “Maybe if it’s so hard, there’s something that needs to be changed. To make it easier."





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a self indulgent sad fic that i decided to project onto kuroo bcuz i love when my favs Suffer
> 
> not a happy ending by the way. this is a Break Up Fic. [HERE'S](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJ_-ZJetesWRzDFYW54MvA4cUisxM-9MA) the playlist i put together for it. listen to it while you read, please. the title song is also on there.
> 
> special thanks to my lovely beta, Liz, for being there for me always. she's a Good Friend and i appreciate her <3
> 
> anyways, happy valentine's day guys

Bokuto’s hands are warm on his skin, and Kuroo curls closer, feeling calloused fingertips slip up the hem of his shirt. The mattress squeaks underneath their combined weight, and the room is quiet except for their own breaths, and the wet sounds of their lips sliding together. Kuroo shivers at the thought that his mom is _right downstairs_ , but he quickly pushes that thought away because he hardly gets to see Bokuto these days, so he’s going to make the most of the time that he does have with him.

“God, I love you so much, dude,” Bokuto says lowly, into the heat of his mouth, and Kuroo feels something pull in his chest at the words. Bokuto’s been way more forward than usual - which, Kuroo supposes, isn’t really a bad thing, but still. It’s a little overwhelming, and Kuroo is a weak man.

“I love you, too,” Kuroo says, barely a whisper between them, and the air is charged with something unfamiliar. Something unpleasant, and something inevitable.

Kuroo closes his eyes and presses closer.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You’re thinking too much.”

Kuroo looks up from his lunch, and Kenma is staring at the console in his hands, but his face is pinched in thought, and when he briefly flickers his gaze up to Kuroo, it looks kind of…. sad.

Kuroo snorts. “That’s my line.”

Kenma sighs. “You’re not usually this lost in your own head. What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” Kuroo says with false flourish. “I’m always this lost in my head!”

Kenma sets down his console and rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose, and oh fuck, now Kuroo’s really annoyed him. Kuroo sinks further into his chair, playing idly with his lunch in front of him, and he winces when he feels Kenma’s foot reach out and kick him underneath the table.

“You always act so unaffected all the time,” Kenma mutters, and then he’s picking up his console again. “You do realize it’s okay, sometimes, to not feel like yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kuroo rasps, but his voice wavers and he jumps when his phone buzzes again in his pocket. He pulls it out, and he grins when he sees Bokuto’s name in his notifications.

_**Bokuto (11:58 am):** baabbbbeeeeee my trig teacher is abt 2 drive me insane. Also do u wanna come visit this weekend??? 8D? _

_**Kuroo (11:59 am):** throw ur text book at him. and yeah, i just have to ask my mom tonight okay? _

Kenma gets up from the table, shoving his console back in his pocket, and Kuroo smiles a bit at the way he impatiently rocks back on his heels, waiting for Kuroo to follow.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be skipping class all the time to eat lunch with me.”

“I don’t like eating lunch with the people in my class,” Kenma mutters, kicking at the ground and glaring at Kuroo. “Besides, you’re an enabler.”

“Fuck off, I’m not,” Kuroo laughs, packing up his leftovers from lunch and standing up. Him and Kenma begin walking back towards their respective classes, and Kuroo feels a sudden compulsion to reach out and ruffle his hair. So he does.

Kenma’s resounding glare and shoulder punch is definitely worth it.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Kuroo fell in love with Bokuto nearly two years ago. They actually didn’t meet at anything volleyball related, surprisingly. It was a class field trip to some science building in Tokyo. Schools from all over were traveling and heading on the same field trip that day, too, so there were students from all across Tokyo in attendance. Bokuto had noticed the tiny volleyball keychain hooked onto Kuroo’s house keys that he keeps on his belt loop, and conversation just kind of started to happen naturally.

Bokuto tells him, now a days, that he’s pretty sure he fell in love with Kuroo that very first day they met.

“It was your eyes,” Bouto laments, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s waist from behind as they wait in line for the ticket booth at the theater. “They were _sparkling,_ I swear.”

“I had like, really bad allergies that day, I remember,” Kuroo laughs. “Pretty sure ‘sparkling’ was just my watery ass, puffy, irritated eyes.”

“You were beautiful,” Bokuto says, nuzzling Kuroo’s shoulder. “You still are! You’ve aged well, babe.”

“It’s only been two years, dumbass,” Kuroo snorts, but he can feel his face heat up a bit. “I’m pretty sure I look exactly the same.”

The line moves forward, and Kuroo shuffles with it, Bokuto pressing close to him from behind. His presence is _here_ , but his mind is elsewhere, and Kuroo’s noticed he’s been doing that a lot lately. There’s a dull throbbing in his chest, that’s been there for a while, and it’s been getting more bothersome. Kuroo wants to reach inside himself, push past all of the muscle and bones and blood, and pinch this weird pain with his fingers until it subsides or gets worse enough to actually mention.

The movie is alright. Bokuto spends most of it talking lowly into Kuroo’s ear about every little thing that happens on screen, and Kuroo spends most of it trying to get popcorn stuck in Bokuto’s hair.

Afterwards, they head back to Bokuto’s place, hand in hand, and the throbbing deep inside of Kuroo’s chest becomes a little harsher.

“So, have you applied to any colleges yet?” Bokuto asks, swinging their hands idly between them as they walk along the streets. It’s still early in the afternoon, the sun still reasonably high in the sky, and when Kuroo turns to look at Bokuto, the warmth of the rays fall across his cheekbones gorgeously.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, a few,” Kuroo says. He doesn’t want to talk about this, because talking about this means -

“Me too! Do you have any dream schools that you applied to?”

“Not really,” Kuroo says, tightening his hold on Bokuto’s fingers. He says it listlessly, turning his gaze away from Bokuto’s face. “It’s not really important.”

“Dude, we’re third years,” Bokuto says. “It’s _kind of_ important.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kuroo mutters, and the throbbing in his chest amplifies enough that he has to swallow around a lump in his throat. He lets go of Bokuto’s hand and shoves his fingers into his pocket. “C’mon, I’m hungry. Do you have anything to eat at your place, or should we stop somewhere?”

“My mom only gave me enough allowance for the movie,” Bokuto says, but his voice sounds far away and muffled. Kuroo shakes his head and reaches up to rub a hand over his face, biting his lip hard enough that he comes back to himself.

“It’s cool,” Kuroo says, opening his eyes and bumping his shoulder into Bokuto’s. “I’ll pay.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Kuroo wants to say he’s been okay with his thought processes lately, but he’d be lying to himself. There are thoughts and unwanted scenarios and fucking stupid feelings that he wants to expel and get rid of, but instead they keep _intruding_ , and forcing their way into his brain like a knife slowly scraping away each and every protective layer he’s ever put up. Peeling it away until it’s just raw, vulnerable emotion, and it fucking terrifies him.

“Hey, mom,” Kuroo says, settling himself at the counter and watching as she prepares dinner. It’s a Sunday, and his father has been traveling a lot lately for work, but he’s finally coming back this evening and will be able to join them for dinner. Sometimes Kuroo wishes he had siblings, like Bokuto does, but other times he’s thankful for the peace in his home.

Besides, he doesn’t think he would enjoy not being his mother’s favorite, anyways.

“Yes?” She says, her voice slightly distracted as he searches the cabinets for a clean skillet.

“Do you still love dad?” he asks, picking at his thumb nail idly, kicking his feet against the side of the counter from the chair he’s perched on.

“Honey, don’t kick the counter,” she says, and then she turns around after placing the skillet on the stove top. “And yes, of course I still love your father. Where’s this coming from, anyways? I know he’s been traveling a lot, but - ”

“Even after all these years?” Kuroo asks, finally chancing a glance up into his mother’s worried gaze. “Even after this long, you still love the same exact person?”

“Love doesn’t just go away, dear,” His mother says, coming around the counter to sit next to Kuroo, reaching out a hand to grip his arm. Her fingers are cool and damp from washing the vegetables earlier, and Kuroo’s skin tingles under her loving touch.

“It doesn’t?”

His mother looks thoughtful for a moment, but then it settles into a sad little smile. “Love doesn’t go away, but people change, and that love can turn into something a bit different than it was from the start. Does that make sense?”

Kuroo shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kinda.”

His mother sighs. “Is this about - ”

“It’s nothing, I was just. Curious, you know? I’m a third year now, and like, I’m thinking a lot about my - my relationships, and my future, and - ”

His voice cracks a little bit, and his mother is looking at him so _sadly_ , so knowingly, like she knew this was going to happen, and Kuroo can feel his throat burn with the need to cry. It’s a shocking, surprising feeling, one that shoots out through each and every one of his nerves like a flickering flame, and he’d rather break all of his toes and all of his fingers before acknowledging what his brain is trying so desperately to make him realize.

“Oh, honey,” his mother coos when the first few tears slip down his cheeks. She reaches her arms over and hugs him, and Kuroo lets out a quiet noise, pressing his face into her neck as she scratches her nails down his back comfortingly. She smells like rose water, and Kuroo’s body aches. He feels so _young_ suddenly, and he can’t stop fucking _crying_.

His mother continues to hold him. “Tetsurou, sweetheart, it’s okay. Everything will work itself out, I promise.”

“How do you know that?” Kuroo mumbles wetly into her neck, sniffling and squeezing his eyes shut. He idly feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, and it makes him cry more.

“Because I’m your mother,” she says softly. “I was young once, too, you know.”

“It just. Hurts,” Kuroo sighs, his tears slowing down, and he pulls away to wipe his face with his sleeve. His mother reaches up and pushes his hair back, and then she’s patting him on the cheek softly.

“I know, baby. Now c’mon, go clean yourself up and then help me cook dinner, okay?”

Kuroo sniffles once more, and nods quickly.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Do you have a crush on Shouyou?” Kuroo asks, his tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth as he tries to pass Kenma. They’re playing mario kart, huddled up on Kenma’s couch, and Kuroo leans into Kenma’s side as he makes a sharp turn, nearly slamming his cart into a wall.

Kenma bristles and elbows Kuroo away. “Stop playing the game with your whole body, it’s annoying,” and then, “I dunno, maybe. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Why not?” Kuroo asks, sighing and leaning back into the couch when he falls off the side of the track once more, putting himself in 8th place. He’s definitely better at first person shooter games, by far.

“I don’t really want a relationship, right now,” Kenma says quietly. “It would be inconvenient, anyways. He lives too far away.”

“Bokuto lives far away,” Kuroo says without really thinking.

“Not _that_ far,” Kenma mumbles, “Are you guys okay? You haven’t really visited each other in a few weeks.”

Kuroo shrugs. “I dunno, we’ve been busy. It’s hard. Dating someone is hard.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Kenma rolls his eyes. “Maybe if it’s so hard, there’s something that needs to be changed. To make it easier.”

“People change, Kenma,” Kuroo blurts out without context, repeating what his mother told him the other day.

“Yes, they do,” Kenma says slowly, setting his controller down on the table after he’s passed the finish line in first place, and then he brings his knees up to his chest, not looking at Kuroo but directing his words at him. “Have you changed?”

Kuroo mirrors his position, and rests his chin on his knees. “I mean. Yeah. Both of us have.”

“You and me?” Kenma says. “Or you and _Bokuto_?”

Kuroo doesn’t say anything, and the throbbing inside of his body spikes, giving him a slight headache. He winces and tries to relax back into the couch, but his limbs are stiff and his mind is stiffer.

“Kenma, I don’t know what to do.”

Kenma sighs, and, in an act completely rare and special, he gets up on his knees and wraps his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders, tucking Kuroo’s head under his chin. Kenma’s not one to ever initiate physical contact, that’s more of Kuroo’s front, but he must’ve noticed how withdrawn and strange Kuroo’s been acting lately. Sometimes, Kuroo’s the one that needs taken care of, and though those times are rare, Kenma is always there when the moments do come to light.

“God,” Kuroo says, feeling his eyes sting. “This is the second time I’ve cried into someone’s chest this week.”

“A new record, definitely,” Kenma murmurs, and Kuroo laughs brokenly, unwinding his arms from his knees in order to wrap them around Kenma’s waist.

Kuroo feels like throwing up suddenly. “Kenma,” he says into the younger boy’s chest. “Do you think people can fall out of love?”

“I think people can fall out of a lot of things,” Kenma says, pulling back and sitting back down next to Kuroo. His knees press into the side of Kuroo’s thigh, bony and warm, and Kenma’s shaky fingers brush his tears away. There’s only a few droplets clinging to his lashes, and Kuroo is so, so exhausted.

“My mom said love doesn’t _really_ ever go away,” Kuroo mumbles.

“I think that’s fair,” Kenma says, pondering. He tucks his hair behind his ear and sits back against the cushions, putting a little bit of distance between them. “It might not go away completely, but. I think that…. it’s possible that you can start to love someone in a different way than you did from the start, you know?”

Kind of like a fire, slowly beginning to settle, Kuroo thinks. A sunset finally disappearing behind the horizon after hours of watching it travel down, and down, and down. You don’t _want_ it to disappear, but sometimes it just has to. It just _has_ to.

“You should tell Shouyou,” Kuroo says, nudging Kenma gently. “If you like him a lot, you should tell him.”

Kenma makes a face. “Why?”

Kuroo sighs and a sad little smile graces his face. “The experience will be worth it, trust me.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bokuto’s heartbeat is steady and warm underneath his ear, and Bokuto’s hand is an idle comfort as he cards through his hair, over and over again. Kuroo almost wants to fall asleep, but the deep rumble of Bokuto’s voice startles him enough that he blinks his eyes open.

“Tetsurou,” Bokuto murmurs, his hand settling on the back of Kuroo’s neck. “Are you okay?”

Kuroo swallows. The pulsating throbbing in his chest has now spread to his fingertips, up to his temples, and down to his toes. It’s so prominent, so _there_ , that Kuroo feels like drenching himself in lighter fluid and fucking climbing into a house fire. One casualty is infinitely better than two.

His lack of an answer has Bokuto sitting up, and Kuroo’s jostled into sitting up as well. Bokuto’s hand falls away from his neck, and they’re left facing each other on the bed, their knees pressed together, but Kuroo can’t bring his gaze any higher than Bokuto’s chest. He’s wearing some stupid tee shirt that his school gave him for free during a pep rally or something, and the colors are faded and worn from repeated washing. Kuroo remembers borrowing it a few times, back when they first got together. He’d steal it when Bokuto wasn’t looking and take it back on the train with him when he went back home. It smells like Bokuto, and Kuroo remembers falling asleep with his face pressed against the fabric, his phone pressed against his ear.

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says brokenly, and when Kuroo looks up, Bokuto’s eyes are wet, and _fuck_. Bokuto was always an easy crier, always so earnest and sincere with his emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Kuroo knows he’s been distant lately, that he’s been hopping around certain conversations and hiding behind his own words. And he knows, for the past few months, that Bokuto has noticed too. Bokuto’s more observant than people seem to think.

He doesn’t notice that his cheeks are damp until Bokuto’s reaching over and cupping his face, using his thumbs to wipe the wetness away.

“I think we should break up,” Kuroo chokes out, and it feels like being hit by a full-speed freight train.

It’s quiet, absolutely silent, and when Kuroo finally lets himself look back up, Bokuto’s face is pinched, and it looks like he’s trying very, very hard to stay composed. Kuroo wants to reach out and touch him, to offer the same comfort that he’s been getting from him since the start, but when he reaches out his hand, Bokuto flinches away.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses out, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, and it looks like he’s pressing hard enough to hurt. Kuroo swallows, and the throbbing in his chest blooms out into a searing pain. “Fuck, Kuroo, if you weren’t happy, you should’ve - I mean, we could’ve - ”

“Kou, stop,” Kuroo says, his voice wavering, and he doesn’t know what to _do_ . “I love you so much, I do, I _promise_ , I just - ”

“Don’t,” Bokuto says quietly. “Please don’t tell me that right now.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Bokuto wheezes quietly, aggressively rubbing at his eyes, and Kuroo knew it would be hard, but he hates this. He fucking hates that he’s hurting them both so fucking bad, he _hates this_.

“P-People… people change, Kou,” Kuroo says softly, sniffling and wiping at his face with his sleeve. “You’re my best friend, you _always_ will be.”

Bokuto’s chest heaves, and Kuroo wants to hug him. He’s gorgeous even though the lines of his shoulders look small right now, hunched in on himself, but the length of his neck is pale and pretty, and Kuroo wants to make sure he never hurts like this again. But right now, he has to let this happen. Sometimes, Kuroo thinks, you have to make the hardest decisions of your life, even if it means hurting the last person who you’d ever want to hurt.

“You’re my best friend, too,” Bokuto mumbles after a few moments of silence, his voice thick and heavy, shaky in all of the wrong places.

Kuroo reaches out and grabs Bokuto’s hands, and Bokuto doesn’t pull away. He’s trembling, they both are, but Kuroo just tightens his hold. He’s been weak, so fucking weak, for the past few months. He has to be strong now. For himself, and for Bokuto.

“We’re going to both change a lot, in the next few years, and maybe - ”

“Don’t say ‘maybe’,” Bokuto murmurs, looking away. “Don’t give me false hope, Kuroo. Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo repeats. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry._ “I know it hurts.”

“Yeah.” Bokuto sighs, giving Kuroo’s fingers a quick, weakened squeeze before pulling away. “I think. I want to be alone, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Kuroo says, and fuck, now he’s _really_ crying, and Bokuto looks up, a bit startled when a strangled sob releases from Kuroo’s mouth, his chest tightening up. “I’m s-sorry. Um, text me, okay?”

Bokuto looks like he wants to reach out, but he doesn’t. Kuroo grabs his jacket and phone, and leaves without another word.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

It’s been a few weeks, and Kuroo can breathe a little easier, but not by much. Kenma’s warm, pressed against his side, and Kuroo’s half dozing off while Kenma plays whatever game he’s working on now. He speeds through games at an ungodly rate, Kuroo swears.

“I told Shouyou how I felt,” Kenma says suddenly, when he’s busy watching a cutscene play out on his console.

Kuroo hums. “Good, I’m glad. What did he say?”

“I think we’re dating now,” Kenma says bluntly, and Kuroo blinks in surprise, suddenly wide awake as he shifts to look at Kenma. The younger boy glances at him briefly before turning back to his game, his lips twitching on a small smile. “He kissed me.”

Kuroo tries to steady the rapid memories attempting to bombard his brain. The air between them is weirdly nostalgic, and when Kuroo just hums again quietly, voice still shaky, Kenma turns towards him and cranes his head up. He presses a fleeting kiss to Kuroo’s forehead, and Kuroo feels his whole body ache.

A relationship dies, only for a new one to blossom. It’s strangely fitting, and Kuroo is glad that Kenma is letting himself have this.

“It’ll be worth it,” Kuroo says again and just like before, his voice is steady but whispered as Kenma goes back to his game, curling into Kuroo’s side. Kuroo presses his nose into the crown of Kenma’s head, closing his eyes. “It’ll be worth it, Kenma, I promise.”

“I know.”

Kuroo still hasn’t received a text from Bokuto, and it’s been nearly a month. He knows he needs to give the other boy space, but at the moment, it feels like a part of his life has ended completely. Now, he just needs to begin again. And it’s _okay_ , he thinks, people change all the fucking time.

This is only just the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/wecametofuck) & [tumblr](http://crunchrapsupreme.tumblr.com/) for fic updates and whatnot!!!
> 
> im way more active on twitter tho btw xoxo


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